


Before the Memorial

by AllWhoWander (phobean)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Critters, Female Character of Color, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Misidentification, POV Character of Color, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Shuri & Thor Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 10:51:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17058419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phobean/pseuds/AllWhoWander
Summary: Shuri and Thor share a moment before a public memorial to those lost to "the snap."





	Before the Memorial

**Author's Note:**

> I've been reading and enjoying Avengers movie-verse fan fiction for many a year. This is the first time that a story appeared to me, line by line. After some writerly fussing, I'm pleased to share it here on A03, where I've been inspired, amazed, shocked, amused, and moved to tears.
> 
> Characters and setting owned by Marvel/Disney Studios. Melancholy and grammatical errors owned by myself.

"I see not the difference," said Thor.

He turned from where he stood, surveying the scene before him like the King he intended to be. Like the King he was, subject-less, confronted by a lush, green, beautiful cityscape that looked achingly opposite Asgard’s gold towers and mountain-scape. Like the man he was, orphaned and exiled, brother-less yet accompanied by the sort of bedraggled family one gains when all is lost.

"This," Shuri attempted, half-hearted but showing a touch of energy, in spite of the heartbreak, of the horror to date, to explain, holding up a dusty, dinged Stark Phone she'd upgraded during a moment of mindless fidgeting. From the screen emerged a hologram depicting a tawny-coat animal with large, sensitive eyes and stubby, square forelegs. 

Thor leaned in to inspect as she concluded in a voice stuffy from breathlessly reconfiguring her life, hours of meetings, and weeping.

This," she repeated, waggling the phone and making the hologram animate so that the rabbit rose and presented its white tail. "Is a rabbit. Rocket is what is called a raccoon."

"Rabbit, raccoon, mouse." Thor responded, shrugging. "Does it matter how the creature is described? Certainly it is not what it was. Woodland animals do not receive the AllSpeak nor take up tools —bear arms. For example, Sleipnir, neither truly horse nor full Asgardian, but still Æsir, is yet my nephew as well was once my father's steed. I am wise to confusions around appearance. However, it is true that the rabbit appeared to have recently taken with a tree, the Flora colossi . . . rabbits do not make their homes in trees here on Midgard?"

"Do they on Asgard?"

". . .Nay."

She looked at him and her silence said clearly: well, then.

"Asgard," Thor started and then faltered. 

Shuri guessed at his struggle to call up a world vanished. It was now the same for her. One element of the Universe wiped clean away. Done and done —like with one's thumb, lifting a smear from the smooth, round surface of a kimoyo bead. 

Asgard, the young Queen knew, had been destroyed by one of it's vanquished children, who, upon her waking, brought her bitter humor to bear upon it, summoned the wolf Garmr, plucked from life her people as carelessly as she took her brother’s eye. Ragnarök. Now, Asgard, a legend to those pale colonizers who inhabited and suffered beneath the cold of the Northern Hemisphere, had become memory, a crumpled, brown leaf fallen from the tree, Yggdrasil.

Thor pulled a breath and tried again, subdued. 

"Asgard," he repeated. "Had rabbits. Though I preferred to dine on hares. Long things, skinny, fast. Not like the . . . puffy creatures here."

Shuri tucked the phone away, twisted the kimoyo bracelet around her wrist, and nodded, "We have those as well in Wakanda. We call them springhares."

And," asked Thor. "They do not resemble this creature you refer to . . .raccoons?"

"No," she huffed out a breath. "Springhare are small. VERY cute. I've never heard one talk."

At this, King and new-Queen peered across the gloom at the stooped, matted form of Rocket. He was seated, silent, on a glossy wooden bench beside the other heroes and would-be's. Amongst the bereaved. 

"He is . . . small," conceded Thor.

"But he can sure talk," Shuri said.

"As well shoot," Thor said, nodding.

Thor folded bare arms over his ceremonial armor and straightened to his full height of what Shuri thought of as 'towering, baobab-trunk white boy.' 

Thor said, "I should like him by my side in battle. Certainly he's an improvement to my nephew, though admittedly with less girth and fewer legs to bear me aloft."

"He scored you a replacement eye, I heard," Shuri added, looking up and up at Thor's bulk. "I am sure I can do better. At least get you one which matches the other. And won't short circuit.

"It is enough," Thor shrugged and then fell silent, the desire for idle chatter dissipating.

As one, they turned to face what they'd been avoiding: friends, family, kins-persons, and tribes sheltered in a beautiful, broken city. Everyone had gathered for the memorial, each seeking comfort none would obtain. In the post battle stillness, the two moved from temporary, false distance to bid a final adieu. Take that first step to carry forward.


End file.
